Valentine's Daughter
by fandomsareinfinite
Summary: You have a dark heart in you Valentine's daughter. What do you do when you have been so broken for so long that it starts to just feel normal? When you can't even tell you are broken anymore, when you are too numb to feel the pain, so all you feel is empty.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey so this is my new story, I hope you like it. Review please and let me know what you think. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, settings, quotes, or anything else that may apear in The Mortal Instruments Series, all those rights go to Cassandra Clare.**

* * *

Clary Morgenstern stared down into the girl's eyes with burning hatred in her own. But underneath that was just sadness.

What do you do when you have been so broken for so long that it starts to just feel normal? When you can't even tell you are broken anymore, when you are too numb to feel the pain, so all you feel is empty.

"Bitch," she screamed again "Valentine's daughter you will never amount to anything."

So badly Clary wanted to smack her across the face, to make her hurt. "That will only prove their point Clary," her mother Jocelyn would have said "You can't change their minds."

"This is all your fault, you, you caused this." Tears were now streaming down the girls face; half angry, half sadness tears.

So Clary turned and walked away. Pivoting on her heel, she swung around silently and walked down the hallway, her face expressionless.

"Coward," the girl called after her. "That's what you are, where are you running to bitch? There's no where for you to go."

Clary just kept on walking, turning the corner; her face impassive. The girl's voice slowly fading away as Clary continued down to her bedroom.

She calmly opened the door and lay down on her bed. Her face resting against her pillow, a single tear escaping down her cheek before she wiped it away hastily. She was Clarissa Morgenstern and she did not cry.

She drifted of to sleep not long after that. She awoke to her mother slowly repeating her name, just before the dawn.

"Come Clary," she said "It is time for us to leave."

Clary agreed silently, nodding her head. They were no longer welcome here.

Her mother left the room, pausing at the door. "Meet me by the front door in five minutes" she whispered.

She made her way downstairs to the front door her meager belongings at her side. She was ready to leave, and leave she did. Jocelyn and Clary disappeared into the dark of the night.

* * *

New York's Institute loomed ahead of them, as dawn was breaking over the cityscape.

The building glamoured was ruined and decrepit, even then though it was beautiful in it's destruction; at least Clary thought so.

But not glamoured the Institute was breathtaking. The old church spires climbing high into the air, it was enchanting.

Clary and her mother walked up the front steps to the huge wooden door, and Jocelyn rapped the large brass knocker; shaped as the angel Raziel.

They stood there for a few moments. The tall strong women with the short stubborn girl at her side.

A women opened the door. She did not have the same burning hatred in her eyes that most people who saw Clary had, instead her eyes looked neutral like she was trying to hide her emotions behind a carefully painted mask.

"Hello Maryse" said Jocelyn. Clary looked up at her mother in surprise of the two women's recognition of each other.

Again Mayrse showed no expression on her face. Clary though, an expert in the art of reading people could tell she was surprised as well.

"Follow me" she said and stepped away to let them in. Clary and Jocelyn walked past her and into the Institute.

* * *

The New York Institute was just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. The stone walls were faded with age and the wood floors were cracking and worn. All of this just made it more alluring. You could see where history was made on these floorboards.

"What are you doing here Jocelyn?" asked Maryse. She was being less careful with her expressions now, and Clary could see how tired she looked; of coarse she was tired, they were at war.

"I didn't want it to come to this Maryse," said Jocelyn "But it seems that we have exhausted all other options."

"Very well then." she said almost sadly. She then looked down at Clary and smiled a little bit, with a minuscule bit of pity in her eyes.

Clary felt the strange urge to trust her, which was not something that she got often.

"Let's get you to your room then, shall we Clarissa?" Maryse said well still softly smiling. Clary offered up a shy smile of her own "Please," she said "Call me Clary."

* * *

Clary followed Maryse up through the very large foyer to the old elevator, that looked so rustic and rickety Clary was almost afraid to board it. But she did and they rode the elevator up to the second floor of the building.

She lead Clary down the winding hallways. Through the passages, and past hundreds of similar rooms. This Institute was made for boarding, but there was no one here now.

"You can stay here," she said to Clary, her face had gone back to being neutral "This is where Isabelle, Max, Alec, and Jace's rooms are."

Clary didn't ask who Isabelle, Max, Alec, and Jace were. She suspected that they were Maryse's children, and a shot of dread went through her heart.

She knew that they would hate her just like everyone else.

Clary pretended it didn't phase her; but honestly sometimes she just wished for a friend, an ally at least.

Then she would chaste herself, she was the daughter of Valentine. She was born damned, and she wasn't dragging anyone into hell with her.

"Thank you" Clary said to Maryse. The cold women offered her a small smile before turning to lead Jocelyn somewhere. To talk to her Clary assumed.

* * *

Clary opened the door to her bedroom softly. Then she walked inside lying her bags down next to the bed.

She threw herself down, exhausted from her long night's journey; but she couldn't sleep. So she stared at the ceiling.

This Institute really was beautiful, and Clary had visited many Institutes in her time. Never staying long, never having the chance to.

They were kicked out of anywhere before they had any chance to settle in; that or Jocelyn decided that they needed to leave.

They would take off in the middle of the night, they left no note or trace of their stay. No one ever missed them. No one ever wanted them there in the first place.

They would hope on a plane taking them somewhere, anywhere else. Then the cycle would start anew. A never ending circle of hatred and loathing.

Not yet had there been a place that accepted them. Who would want her though, Valentine's Daughter; often that would be what they called her. She doubted any of them even bothered to learn her real name.

Her name was a curse, damning anyone who spoke it. So they called her other things; Valentine's daughter, work of satan, bitch, slut, whore.

After long enough those things got into her head. She started to think them too. That was the worst part, the self hatred, rotten inside and out.

She remembered something one of the heads of the Institutes spoken to her. "You have a dark heart in you Valentine's daughter." he said.

And as she lay in bed; hoping, praying, that this Institute would better than the others. Her dark heart evened out and her eyes slipped shut, as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: So again please review telling me what you think, this will help me improve this story, and let me know if I should continue it. Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi so here is chapter two. I got some really nice feedback on my first chapter so I am going to continue this story. Please review this chapter as well and tell me what you think. Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, if not Happy Holidays. **

* * *

"Jocelyn," Maryse started. Jocelyn interrupted her "I know how much this is to ask."

"Really? Because I don't think you do." A sadness was in Maryse's eyes, one that looked almost helpless; _almost_ being the key word, because Maryse Lightwood was not helpless.

"Your daughter has a reputation Jocelyn," said Maryse "She has a reputation, that I would rather not have on this Institute as well."

"She is a good girl, I promise, she wont give the New York Institute a bad name," Jocelyn had a desperate, wild look in her eyes "Please Maryse, we have no where else to go."

Then Maryse said something that Jocelyn would have never in a million years expected, but that made her more relieved then she thought she had ever felt; she said "Okay."

* * *

"Clary," Jocelyn said, knocking softly on the door "Clary, are you in there?"

She slowly pushed open the door, and what she saw made a smile grace her features.

Clary was sprawled across the bed; feet at the pillows, head at the foot. She looked so innocent lying there, as if she couldn't possibly care about anything, drool dripping from her mouth.

And Jocelyn was reminded that Clary was only a child, born into this life, never having known anything else. A pang of guilt and sadness went through her heart. She had brought up a child to this life. A life of hate and war.

Jocelyn walked over to where Clary lay on the bed, and woke her gently. "Clary, dear, wake up, Maryse wants to see you in the library."

Clary let out a groan, and again Jocelyn was reminded just normal she really was; how normal she could be in another place, another world.

Slowly she rose her head to look at her mother, a rare vulnerability in her eyes that almost broke Jocelyn's heart; but then it disappeared as easily as it had come.

* * *

Clary walked into the library with her mother. She was more nervous then she had ever been in her life, anxiety and terror swirling in the deep dank pit of her stomach.

But another emotion was also there, more unwelcome then any of the others. Hope was slowly rising from her feet to her stomach. Clary tried to stop it, this happened at every Institute, and it always let her down. Hope always lead to disappointment.

The New York Institute's library really was stunning. The huge vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books. The whole place was made of deep rich mahogany wood.

"Hello Clary." said Maryse, who was standing by a large desk in the center of the room.

"Can I stay?" asked Clary, the tension getting to her. Immediately afterwards her hands flew to her face, slapping over her mouth; a terrified look coating her features.

Maryse laughed a little bit a Clary's expense, the girl seemed truly terrified. "I have decided," started Maryse. Clary's heart hammered in her chest, and she thought that she might throw up.

"I have decided, that you can stay" Maryse said.

Waves of relief crashed over Clary, hitting her one after the other. The riptide of the ocean pulling her out to sea, sucking her into expectations set too high.

Deep in her heart she knew that New York would be just like everywhere else, that eventually they would see her dark heart and rotten soul. And that eventually they to would come to hate her, Maryse's children probably already did.

If Maryse's children hated Clary then soon Maryse would as well. Then Jocelyn and Clary would be homeless once again, and Clary didn't think that they had many options after they left.

Still all the same Clary was happy and she decided to live in the moment. A single tear of relief slid down her face without her permission, catching Clary by surprise. She wiped it away as quickly as she could, but not before Maryse saw it.

Maryse was taken aback by Clary's tear. Was this girl really so happy that she was allowing her to stay at an Institute; a place that should have been offered up to any shadowhunter as refuge.

She then wondered how many times a sixteen year girl had to be turned down and forgotten, had to be denied a friend, had to be yelled at with bitter words of hatred; before she finally snapped.

She remembered all the thing's she had heard about Clarissa Morgenstern, Valentine's Daughter, the girl with a decrepit heart, broken soul, and empty conscious. She thought that these people blinded by hatred and fear were going to make this innocent girl into a weapon.

If they continued on their way, the same thing they feared so very much, will come back and be their destruction. The hatred that they thought to be their greatest asset, would by their downfall.

"Thank you," said Clary "Thank you so much."

"Really dear, it's not a problem" said Maryse, the girl's every word made her heart break break a splinter more. She was thankful for so many things that she shouldn't be. She was Nephilim, and yet her own people treated her as less than a demon; the thing they were put on this earth to destroy.

Clary smiled sadly at Maryse, who smiled back at her. "You can go back to your room now," said Maryse "Dinner will be ready soon, I'll come get you when it's done."

"Ok," said Clary "Thank you."

Maryse offered up a small smile before the young girl turn on her heel a walked out of the door.

* * *

Clary continued to walk down the long hallways to the room Maryse had assigned to her. She opened up the door and padded over to her bed in her sock feet, for she had left her shoes at the door.

She was almost more nervous then she had been when she went to see Maryse in the library. She knew the decision of Maryse's children would be just as important as Maryse's decision herself.

If the children of the New York Institute didn't tolerate her soon no one else there would either. She could only hope that they would as accepting of her as Maryse had been.

She didn't have much time to hope for anything though, because her mother was now knocking on her door.

"Clary, dinner is ready."

* * *

**A/N: So, Clary's going to meet the rest of the Institute in the next chapter. What do you think is going to happen? Review with what you thought of this chapter, and what you want/think will happen in the next. Thank you so much for reading.**


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